The harsh memories of the past
by croatoancas
Summary: Sam just couldn't get the memories out of his head, not anymore. Flashes of his time in hell and what Lucifer did to him are just bubbling below the surface itching to get out, until one memory brings his world crashing down around him. There's only one person Sam can bear to be around, Dean. That is, until he actually tells Dean what's going on. WARNING:violence and death
1. Chapter 1

His hands were all over him, ripping off his clothes, piece by little piece, Sam was struggling underneath Lucifer, but his hand and feet were tied down, he was helpless.

GET OFF ME!

Sam was screaming at Lucifer, struggling against his grip, as he started touching Sam in no place a guy had ever touched him before.

GET OFF ME OR I SWEAR TO GOD-

You swear to who Sammy, dear old Dad can't offer you any help down here and you would do well to remember that.

Sam was writhing against the restraints he was under and Lucifer kept helping himself to whatever he wanted from Sam. He could do that, he had all the power and Sam was just his little pet toy, who he was free to do whatever he pleased with.

"Sammy!" Sam could have sworn he had heard Dean's voice, but that was impossible, he was locked in hell, and Dean was out there in the real world.

AAAAH GET OFF ME!

"Sammy! Wake up! Goddammit WAKE UP!" Sam could feel someone's hands shaking him, it wasn't Lucifer, it was someone else. Dean. He felt different to the hands that were holding him down against his will, they felt more, real.

Sam slowly began to realize that, as the shaking of Dean became more real, the force of Lucifer became less so. He struggled to keep hold of Dean and slowly began to open his eyes to hear himself screaming, and see himself convulsing in Dean's arms as Dean searches his face for any signs of recognition with pure terror in his eyes.

"Sam! Ohmygod Sam can you hear me!?"

Sam slowly raised his eyes, to meet Dean's and gave as much of a nod as he could before squeezing his eyes shut trying to forget everything he'd just seen.

* * *

**2 Hours Later**

"It's never been like that before Sammy, I've never seen you that bad, you were out for a good hour, before I even started making any progress on you. Kicking and screaming and thrashing all over the place, I'm surprised no one called the police on us." Dean looked at his brother with worry in his eyes, he was truly scared about whatever ordeal Sam had just witnessed, it seemed to have shaken him right down to the core.

"I, um, I don't want to talk about it Dean." Sam remained sat as he had for the past 2 hours since being awoken from his nightmare: knees brought up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, with his head placed in between the tops of his two knees. Dean was looking at him and couldn't help but think of him as his terrified little brother, even though Sam was coming on 29 now. He was acting in exactly the same way he did when John went off at him when they were younger, only this time Dean didn't know how to comfort him from something that happened inside his own head.

Dean simply stared at his younger brother as he began slowly rocking back and forth as a way of trying to comfort himself. Dean felt so helpless, he couldn't help Sam if he didn't know what he was so afraid of. "Sammy, hey hey listen to me, I don't know what you think you just saw, but you're safe here Sammy, no one can touch you here, I'm here to protect you okay?" He was speaking with a tone that was so low and soothing, Sam remembered Dean speaking to him like that when he had been much younger, it was always Dean's way of comforting him even in the most dire situations.

Sam tried with all his might to believe what Dean was saying, but it wasn't enough, not this time. Sam was having a hard time shaking the feeling he was still in the pit, still surrounded by things that wanted to kill him, and destroy him, and it was only now that he was out that he was realizing they'd succeeded. Sam continued to rock in his little ball, trying to reassure himself that they couldn't get to him anymore, not now Dean was here, but he realized all too soon, that no matter where he went they'd always be with him in his memories.

Dean was watching Sam with worried eyes as he continued talking to Sam and stroking his hair, he wasn't even sure Sam could even hear him anymore, or if he was listening, but still Dean continued all the same. He wasn't going to let nightmares destroy his brother, so intended to do everything he possibly could to help Sam feel safe again. Dean couldn't help but let his curiosity get the better of him after an hour of rocking and comforting his little brother:

"Sammy, I need you to listen to me now okay, can you hear me?" Dean felt a slight nod of Sam's head under his hands so took it as a sign to continue, "okay good, well I know we've gone over this before, but something's changed now hasn't it? That was a new memory you were having last night, one you hadn't had before wasn't it?" Another nod of the head, Sam's rocking had almost ceased as he was listening closely to every word Dean was saying now, "And I know this may be hard for you Sammy, but you need to talk to me about it, remember that's how we get through this, you talk to me about the memories and then we get through them together, like we always have." Dean felt Sam tense up, at those words, but he tried to cover it up by quickly relaxing again, but Dean had felt it, there was something more about this nightmare, something that was digging away at Sam, but Dean knew he couldn't help unless Sam told him what the problem was.

For the time being, Dean accepted that Sam didn't want to talk, and allowed him to remain on the bed until he fell asleep again, it was only then when he fell asleep at 3 in the afternoon did it occur to Dean how little Sam had been sleeping, if at all. He'd been going to bed after Dean, so Dean wasn't really sure what time, and was always awake when Dean stirred in the mornings. It was as he was looking down on his sleeping brother did he notice the dark circles that had formed under his eyes, and, disturbed as it was, this morning was the first time Dean had actually seen Sam asleep in a long time. He looked down, and couldn't help but think that what could he be remembering that could be this bad?

* * *

"Bobby come on answer the phone, I'm losing my fricking mind here."

Dean had gone out that afternoon to try and not disturb Sam from his sleep, as it seemed to look like he was finally at peace after the eventful morning, but now he was getting nowhere in terms of finding help from Bobby. He was always there for the boys to help them deal with whatever crap they got themselves in, but Dean breathed another deep sigh as the phone rang through to voice mail for the 12th time. He'd stopped leaving messages after the 4th call, but kept ringing just in case Bobby responded.

He called a few more times before deciding Bobby was obviously out on a case, or just busy, so with a heavy heart Dean returned to the motel room.

As he approached the door, he could hear muffled yells getting louder as he approached his and Sam's room.

Shit Sammy!

Dean picked up the pace and started running towards his room, as he flung open the door to see Sam still asleep in the bed, but yelling at the top of his lungs.

"GET OFF ME! I SAID GET OFF YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME STOP!"

It was mixed in with pleas for forgiveness and mercy, and yells of what sounded to be like pain. Dean couldn't help but stand there dumbfounded staring at his little brother writhing in pain in his sleep before his hunter instincts kicked in and reminded him to go to Sams aid. He rushed over and slowly started to try and wake Sam up as he continued struggling against Dean's grip. Dean could see a sweat forming all over Sam's forehead and knew he needed to wake Sam up soon before he started having a panic attack in his sleep.

Dean slowly managed to bring Sam back to consciousness following the routine he had had to do only this morning. When Sam first opened his eyes, they were full of pure terror, and were rapidly filling with water as Dean rushed to Sam's side to cradle his brother. Sam tried to pull himself together, when he realized he was at no risk, and it was just him and Dean in the room, but not before a few small tears escaped his eyes. Angry with himself for being so weak in front of Dean, Sam turned away from him and tried to get out of bed to go for some air when Dean's strong hand gripped his arm and pulled him down onto the bed. Sam knew Dean wasn't going to hurt him, but couldn't help but flinch when he felt Dean's rough hands grip his arm.

"Look Sammy, I know you don't want to talk about this, heck you get your stubbornness from me, but you have got to talk to me man, what's going on in that freaky little head of yours?" Dean knew it was a shot in the dark, but he had to find out what was going on before he could help Sam, and he hated feeling so helpless as he watched Sam slowly breaking beside him.

"Dean I-" Sam had to stop talking to take a deep breath to stop himself from bursting into tears in front of Dean, "Dean, I didn't want to tell you this, ever, if it came down to it. Not only because I didn't want to, but because I didn't know how." Sam paused again to regain his composure, as Dean sat in silence still stroking Sam's hair, not wanting to interrupt him from possibly finally telling Dean what was really going on. "You've probably already guessed, my dreams are about hell. Well that's always been fine before now, and up until about 2 weeks ago, it was just the same old same old burning in the pit. But now-" Sam's voice cracked at this point, and Dean could slowly feel his eyes start to well up. He knew he shouldn't be making Sam talk about this, but there was just no way around it. "Now, it's these new memories, they just keep flooding it, it's like a new memory every time I fall asleep, and they just keep getting worse."

"Wait wait, Sammy, new memories, what do you mean, how can you only just be getting new memories now, you've been out of hell for nearly a year now, surely every piece of shit you went through must have surfaced by now?" Dean felt Sam take a deep breath and heard a deep sigh escape him, as is he was becoming completely deflated.

"I don't know Dean, I don't understand it either. Like I said it started about two weeks ago, but my best guess is that my brain tried to lock away the worst memories because it knew how much they'd screw me up, but now, they're all just rushing back in and I can't take it anymore Dean!" With that a few sobs racked Sam's body and Dean could do nothing more than cradle him in his arms and try and assure him everything would be okay.

"No it won't Dean! Every time I close my eyes I see him! I see what he's doing to me and I feel it, I feel the pain that comes with it, it's like I'm being tortured and I know it's just a memory that it's not happening right now, but then all the memories of the pain and fear I felt at the time come rushing back, and I sort of just freeze and can't do anything about it, not even wake up." Sam was full on crying now, and Dean was just taken aback by how much his brother had been hurting, without him even knowing it. "I don't know what to do anymore Dean, every time I close my eyes, he's standing over me, and I, I, I can't do anything to stop him, because he has me tied down and I'm helpless, and then he starts ripping my clothes off, and burning them off my skin before he, he, he-" Dean knew Sam wouldn't stop now, he was crying his eyes out and rocking back and forth, but there was no way Dean could stop the words from flowing out of his mouth, but as the next few words left Sam's mouth, Dean wished he'd never asked in the first place, "he, he raped me Dean, he raped me and I couldn't do anything to stop it."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean sat there in stunned silence, as he cradled Sam's shaking form in his arms. He couldn't believe it, his big lump of a brother who'd always been able to make it through anything thrown at him, was sat here shaking in Dean's arms crying his eyes out. He was broken. He was finally broken, and Dean had no idea how to fix him.

They sat like that for a good few hours before Dean finally felt Sam's breathing level out and just hoped for his sake he was too exhausted to have any more nightmares tonight. Dean slowly detached himself from Sam and went to pick up his phone as it had started vibrating. He didn't want to disturb Sam, so took his phone outside and sat down right outside the motel room door, it was Bobby.

"Dean, you called 20 times, what on earth's the matter boy?"

"Well I don't know if you could really say the problem is on earth Bobby." He knew his attempt at humor was weak, but he couldn't bare to be serious when he decided to tell Bobby about what Sam had said, that made it feel all too real to Dean.

"What in the devil are you taking about boy? Is it something to do with Sam?"

Dean didn't even know how to begin telling all this to Bobby.

"Look boy, if you'd rather come and talk to me in person that's fine, but I can't be making any cross country trips with this dud leg of mine."

Dean knew he'd have to tell Bobby about this, but Sam wasn't in any state to be travelling all over the place, that left two possibilities, go in secret, or just leave Sam behind.

"Okay Bobby, I'll be right over, I just need to sort out a few things first."

Dean hung up the phone and started heading back to the room, he hated himself for even thinking of leaving Sam like this, but sometimes it just had to be done. He crept around the room, collecting only the necessities, so being careful not to wake Sam in the process, and left Sam and note on the table letting him know he'd be back in a few days, Bobby said he needed his help urgently and didn't want to wake him. He also thought of adding a little extra on the bottom letting Sam know that he was safe now, and Lucifer would never be able to touch him again, but wanted to talk to Sam about that in person so left it off the note.

He left the next 3 days pay for the room at the motel desk so that Sammy wouldn't have to worry about that as well as himself, and Dean left the motel in his impala almost immediately regretting his decision.

* * *

Sam woke up to an oddly silent room, he saw that Dean wasn't in there but simply presumed he'd gone out to buy food or beer or pie. The thing that struck Sam as most odd at that moment, was the fact he had had a completely undisturbed sleep for the first time in a very long while. He should have been more aware of the situation, but as he was actually feeling good at that moment in time, he simply nestled back under the covers to await Dean's return.

It was only after Dean didn't come back for hours, and it got to 3am that Sam started to worry. He got up and started looking around the room for clues when he saw that Deans duffle had gone along with half the the weapons. Sam was getting panicked now when he saw the note sitting on the table with his name on;

Sammy,

Had to go over to Bobby's for a few days, he needed help on a hunt, don't worry about me, I'll be back soon.

Dean

Sam stared at the piece of paper in his hands before feeling this swell of anger grow inside him at the thought that Dean had left him when he needed him the most. In a flurry of rage, Sam ripped up the piece of paper and started ripping over any furniture that he could get his hands on, even managing to upturn Deans bed. Sam was screaming as he was doing so, and before long he felt the first tears start to run down his cheeks, as he slumped against the opposite wall and let the tears fall free as sobs racked his body as he began wailing Deans name over and over.

Sam didn't know how long he'd been sat there crying before he finally realized how pathetic he must look, a 29 year old man crying about not having his big brother by his side, no wonder Dean had run off to Bobby's at his first chance, Sam was a mess.

Sam hated himself for letting it get to him so much, but he just couldn't help it, before he even thought about what he was doing he was up walking over to the remainder of the hunting gear Dean had left. He was only looking for one thing in particular, so tossed all the other bits across the room for someone to pick up later. Then he found it, the little knife Sam always kept around his ankles, he kept it the sharpest of all his knives as it was only ever needed to get out of the toughest situations, but not today, today it was going to be used for Sam's uses only. He carried the knife to the bathroom, and stared at his reflection in the mirror to see how much of a mess he looked. His eyes were bloodshot from crying so much, his face was all red and streaky, and his breaths were still coming in short ragged spurts making him look like a mad man.

You're a fuck up Sam

Everything you do, you fail and ruin

Even Dean's left you now

He couldn't stand knowing he has a fuck up as a brother

Sam pressed the knife down against his skin as he allowed to tears to fall freely from his eyes again, no one was here to stop him because no one cared about Sam anymore, everyone had left. Sam slowly dragged the blade along his skin, hissing through his teeth at the fresh pain that was beckoning him, demanding to be felt. Sam didn't care though, he finally felt peace when he saw the blood drip from his wrists onto the floor and into the sink, it made him feel more alive than he had in months. He continued slicing slowly through his arms until he began to feel light headed, so had to sit on the bathroom floor.

Then came the hysterical laughter.

Sam thought of how stupid he must look right now, like a big over grown baby crying on the floor of a motel bathroom covered in his own sweat and blood. How mad at him would Dean be if he saw him right now, he'd think he was even more disgusting than he already did. In Sam's delusional state, he found this absolutely hilarious and continued laughing to himself as he slowly lost consciousness.

* * *

Dean arrived at Bobby's early the next morning, and couldn't wait more than a few minutes to spill everything Sam had told him. Bobby simply sat and listened to all the gory details before finally taking a deep breath and sighing, Dean couldn't help but feel angry at Bobby, he was meant to be able to fix all the messes Sam and Dean got in to, so why couldn't he fix this one too.

"Bobby, say something man, I need your advice here!" Dean hadn't meant for it to come out so desperate, but when Bobby looked into his eyes and saw the eyes of a hopeless man, he couldn't help but share in Deans pain.

"Look Dean, I know you came here expecting me to fix everything for you, but maybe the only way to fix this is to actually talk to Sam about it, rather than running away from him. I mean, hell, that boys been through more than I've seen any hunter go through these past few years, but he's always made it through the tough times because you've been right at his side. So the only piece of advice I can really give you, is to stop trying to run away from your problems, and get your sorry little ass back to your brother to actually do something about this." Dean looked up into Bobby's eyes as he spoke, his tone was soft, yet firm, and Dean knew as soon as he'd said it that he was right. He shouldn't have left Sam straight away, he probably feels completely betrayed by Dean.

"Aw shit man, I really screwed up this time didn't I. Well I'll give him a call to check on him, and I'll let him know I'll try and be home tonight rather than tomorrow morning."

Dean was becoming increasingly worried about Sam, and it was slowly dawning on him, just how stupid he could have been thinking it was a good idea at all to leave Sam alone, immediately after he'd just fessed up his biggest secret. He moved into the next room and took out his phone and started dialing Sam's number. It went through to voice mail after ringing out. Dean tried again and again and Sam finally picked up on the 7th time, he sounded awful.

"Sammy? Hey it's Dean, how are you?"

"Dean, uh...Dean. What do you want?"

Drunk. He was either drunk, or had just woken up.

"Hey Sammy, yeah it's me, just calling to check in and let you know I'll be home tonight instead of tomorrow okay?"

"Okay." and the phone went dead. Dean was quite taken aback by Sam's bluntness, but merely shook it off as a grudge for leaving him alone, so went and said goodbye to Bobby and headed off on his way back to the motel.

* * *

Sam threw the phone against the wall as soon as he'd hung up on Dean, he couldn't believe Dean would hate him that much he would actually pretend to care.

The incessant ringing on Sam's phone was what had woken Sam up from his state of unconsciousness, it seems as though his cuts had stopped bleeding at some point during the night as his arms were all sticky with blood when he woke up. Sam judged the amount of blood he had lost by how weak he was when he stood up to try and answer the phone, so, in short, a lot.

As Sam started the clean up his wounds, he realized he couldn't let Dean see him like this, it would only make him more disgusted in him. That is, if he was actually coming back to the motel, who would want to see someone who'd been raped. Sam felt dirty even thinking the word.

He made the decision then and there that he'd have to leave. He would take whatever things he had with him in the motel room and he'd leave. Sam couldn't quite believe that only 3 days ago had life seemed so perfect to him, he was finally getting along with Dean, and they were back to having their brotherly bonding sessions, but then Sam had to go and open his big fat mouth, and tell Dean all of the gruesome details about his time as Lucifer's toy.

That was it, that was Sam's decision, and no matter how much it truly pained him to have to say goodbye to his brother without even seeing him, he had to do it. He couldn't wait around to see the hatred that was undoubtedly filling Dean's eyes and heart even at the mere thought of Sam.

So Sam set to work. He didn't bother clearing up the mess he'd made the previous night, he just collected everything he needed and shoved it into his duffle. Clothes, guns, knives, explosives, anything he could find in the room. Including his little ankle knife he'd used so much last night. He still didn't really understand why he'd taken the knife to his skin in the first place, but all he knew now was that it had given him clarity, a different perspective on the whole situation, and in the long term, Sam thought that might be a really useful tool to have.

Next came the letter, it hadn't occurred to Sam just how hard it would really be to say goodbye to Dean this way.

Dean, the boy he'd followed and looked up to since the age of four. Dean, the guy who's raised him into the man he'd become today. Dean, his brother who he'd never get to share one last hug with. Dean, his best friend in the whole world.

Dean,

I don't really know where to start with this, I honestly thought it would be easier.

I'll start at the beginning, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for not being the brother you'd always hoped I'd become,

I'm sorry for always failing you, and making everything worse when I try and help,

I'm sorry for consistently screwing things up between Dad and us,

I'm sorry for mum's death, I know deep down, it was always my fault she died, no matter what we found out,

I'm sorry for always being a burden on you and not being able to take care of myself.

But Dean, you can smile now, and be happy, because I won't be around to be a burden anymore, I won't be around to fuck things up for you. You'll be able to go out to the bars at night and not feel guilty because I'm back at home,

You'll be able to live your life exactly the way you choose without having to worry about me getting caught in the crossfire.

I only ask a few things in return Dean,

Please, please, don't look for me, just be free and be your own person for once in your life, hell, everyone knows you deserve it.

Please, be careful. I want you to live your life to the fullest, and if you die before me in a stupid hunt or something, I swear I'll bring you right back to life and switch places with you.

And Dean, you won't have to "watch out for Sammy" anymore.

Goodbye Dean.

Sammy

Sam didn't know why he was signing it off from Sammy, but somehow that just felt right.

Sam looked behind him at the room Dean would be returning to tonight, and gave it once last check for weapons before he left and closed the door behind him for good.

"Goodbye Dean."


	3. Chapter 3

1 Year. 1 Fucking year since Dean had turned up at the motel to find the room trashed and empty, only with Sam's note on the table, waiting for him.

* * *

**1 Year Ago**

Dean had arrived back at the motel at about 11pm, he'd thought Sam would have been asleep by then, so approached the room quietly. It was then when he opened the door a crack that he saw the place had been trashed. Dean took a sharp intake of breath and starting look around for Sam in the room, but all he found was that all of Sam's gear had gone, and the bathroom was covered in blood.

Dean couldn't help but assume the worst, someone had broken into the room and taken Sam, all because Dean wasn't there to prevent it. Not once did it cross his mind, that this had actually been Sam's doing, until he saw the piece of paper on the table.

Dean walked over to it, and slowly opened up the piece of paper:

Dean,

I don't really know where to start with this, I honestly thought it would be easier.

...

And Dean, you don't have to "watch out for Sammy" anymore.

Goodbye Dean

Sammy

By the time Dean had finished reading the letter he was crying, not just little sniffles, whole body racking sobs that filled the now empty motel room. He fell to his knees clutching the note, and couldn't quite believe it. His brother, his little brother, the one he was always meant to watch out for, had gone. All because Dean had left him at his time of need rather than being the rock Sam had always needed.

Dean stayed like that until morning when he was drawn out of trance by his phone ringing. He rushed over to grab it, just in case it was Sam calling, but it wasn't, it was Bobby.

"Bobby...he's gone. Sam's gone" Dean couldn't prevent the crack in his voice, or the tears that followed as Bobby started asking questions down to phone. Dean didn't want to listen to that, he just wanted his brother back.

"I SAID HE'S GONE BOBBY. SAM'S GONE AND HE'S NEVER COMING BACK, AND IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF ME." He slammed the phone shut as he ended the call with Bobby, he then proceeded to throw it against the wall where it gathered in a small pile amongst the remnants of what Dean presumed was Sam's phone, probably thrown there following the call from Dean the day before.

Dean knew he'd have no hope of finding Sam if he didn't want to be found, but decided against Sam's wishes not to look for him, and gathered what composure he had left and left the motel behind him, in the frantic search for his brother

* * *

Sam had no idea which direction to head in when he'd left the motel, he just knew he had to get away from everything. He just drove and drove.

He didn't eat, he couldn't sleep, he just needed to make a new life for himself without any distractions. He made all new aliases, so Dean wouldn't know how to track him, didn't buy a new cellphone, on the off chance that Dean may find his number somehow.

Sam drove for three days straight before he finally became too tired to focus on his driving without it being too unsafe.

He had no money for a motel room, and no hope of getting a peaceful nights sleep anyway, so decided to knock himself unconscious the only way he knew how.

Sam pulled the car over into a layby and lay down in the back seat to make sure no one could seen him before gripping the blade from his ankle sheath and holding it in front of his eyes. It was glistening in the moonlight as he turned it between his hands, and stared at the way it was shining as he brought it down onto his wrist again.

Sam felt the familiar sensation of the pain this time, and knew that he needed to cut just deep enough to make him pass out, but not so to do any real damage. He pulled the blade back and did four neat cuts on one wrist, and four on the other, before placing the knife back where it belonged and slowly lowering his head to the cars upholstery taking in the sights and sounds around him as he drifted into unconsciousness.

When Sam finally opened his eyes again, he assumed a few days had passed as a fairly thick layering of snow was now covering the ground, and there hadn't been any signs of that when he went to sleep.

Sam was quite pleased by had his little idea had worked so well, he had rested his body without any memories of Lucifer disturbing his mind. As he tried to sit up he realized just how much blood he had lost as the world started spinning around him, causing him to lie back down again.

Shit, how am I meant to try again, when I can't move from this fucking seat.

Sam knew he needed to clean his wounds and patch them up before they became infected, so very slowly he reached for the first aid kit he'd cleverly placed at the top of his duffle, as he knew he'd need to get to it without having to struggle with guns and clothes.

He began setting to work slowly but smoothly, as he placed stitches where they were needed, and simple bandaging around where they were not. Slowly as Sam's head started to clear, he figured he was probably a little hazy from hunger and dehydration, as he couldn't remember the last time he'd had anything to eat or drink.

Sam slowly made his way back round to the drivers door and climbed in, careful not to make any movements too sudden, as he still felt on the verge of passing out. He pulled out back onto the road and drove until he reached a small town in the middle of nowhere. Sam pulled the car up outside a gas station and caught himself in the reflection of the shop, he looked awful. He had red bloodshot eyes, his hair was wild and sticking up all over the place, his shirt was covered in blood, and he himself looked white as a ghost. Sam's breath caught in his lungs as he saw himself, and tried to make himself look slightly more presentable before leaving the car. This included trying to tug his hair back onto his head, changing his shirt, and wiping down the blood from his arms and face. There. Slightly better.

He walked into the shop and it was empty all bar the shop assistant and one dodgy looking guy hanging around by the liquor. Sam kept a wary eye on him as he picked up a few bottles of water and some food before heading back to the car. He noticed the guy following him as he approached, but played the oblivious card until he was right behind Sam, and then swung round and slammed him into the side of the car.

"What do you want! Why are you following me!" Sam's breathing was rabid, as he realized he really needed to sit down, like now.

"Woah there man! I just noticed you looked a little rough around the edges and though I might be able to help." Sam loosened his grip on the man as he was more intrigued by him than anything else. "I know the look man, the 'running away from my problems' look. Trust me, I've been there, I've done that, and do you wanna know what kept me going? What kept me from running back to my problems out of guilt or worry? This bad boy." Sam watched as the man slowly took a bag of syringes full of a liquid he was vaguely familiar with, but had never known anyone to use.

"Heroin."

"Yeah man, but don't you see, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I can help you get rid of all the shit in your past with just one little injection, no more pain, no more worries, no more bottled up shit. It will all go with this I swear it." Sam found himself loosening his grip even more, until his arms swung loosely by his side. Heroin. Dean would kill him if he found out Sam was even thinking about it, but that's the thing, he wanted to get Dean out of his head, he wanted to forget everything, and here was a free ticket to do that right in front of him.

Sam slowly outstretched his hand as the other man grasped it and shook it with a strong handshake. Sam felt a warmth flow through him as the man brought up one of the needles and pierced it into Sam's arm, and Sam never looked back after that.

* * *

**Present day (1 Year after Sam's disappearance)**

Dean had been tirelessly searching for Sam since that stupid day. He still carried that letter in his pocket, felt it burning a whole in there every time his heart ached for him to see Sam just one more time to tell him he was sorry, that he loved him, that he was there to look after him. But Dean couldn't do that, because of the biggest mistake he ever made.

He'd traveled up and down the country, with Bobby for a few months after he'd finally calmed down enough to tell him about the situation, but now he was alone again. Always alone.

He felt his eyes prick as they started to fill with tears as they so often did now when he thought of Sam.

Dean was currently on the road to a place just south of Oregon as he'd got a phone call from one of his feelers that they think they might have possibly seen Sam hanging around there. Even a possibility of a sighting was good enough for Dean. He'd had so many calls, and they'd always lead to dead ends, but today something felt different. There was a new wave of hope filling Dean on his drive, as though he could feel himself slowly becoming closer to finding Sam again, seeing his beautiful smile with the dimples that he only ever showed Dean. His hair that Dean always complained was too long, but would never dream of changing. Seeing the way Sam walked with a slight hunch as though he always felt just that little bit too tall. All the memories of the things Dean loved most about Sam were coming back to him in a montage of memories as he was driving down the road. He couldn't help but let the excitement build inside him, he knew he was going to see Sam again, he just knew it.

When Dean arrived at the coordinates he'd been texted his heart fell, it looked like the middle of a drug den.

What on earth would Sammy be doing here?

Then as soon as that feeling of excitement came, it was leaving him again, Dean knew this couldn't have been Sam that was seen, Sam was the good brother, he'd never even smoked, let alone touched anything else.

Nevertheless Dean began walking around the outside the warehouse until he found a door leading inside. He opened the door, and immediately a wave of nausea hit him like a slap in the face. There was a smell distinct only to Dean, as rotting flesh. He took a few steps back before covering his nose and proceeding into the building. There was vomit and blood everywhere, it looked like it had just had one of the most drunken parties gone wrong ever.

Dean continued walking around, he saw the occasional body here and there, all unconscious or not breathing and found himself holding his own breath as he checked their faces to make sure they weren't Sam.

Dean had almost reached the end of the warehouse when he caught a glimpse of something out the corner of his eye. It was a man, curled up on the floor shaking, covered in a mixture of sweat and blood. He had his back to Dean, but Dean guessed this man was about 6 foot 4 by the way his gangling limbs were wrapped around his too long body and legs. Dean almost starting crying again as he approached the man, his spine was clearly visible through the back of his shirt, as were his shoulder blades. As Dean got closer, her saw a mop of hair atop the mans head, it was brown, well it would have been brown had it not been matted in blood. The man had clearly not heard Dean approaching, or couldn't show any signs that he had as he remained in the same position curled up and shaking as Dean got closer. Dean saw that the jeans he was wearing were hanging off him, as though there were about 4 sizes too big, and he saw arms that looked my like sticks sticking out from under the sleeves. But these arms couldn't be Sam's, no. Sam always had more muscle than Dean, he'd been able to pick Dean up by the age of 16, and had always looked so proud of who he was. But these arms, were thin and spindly, and covered in blood. Dean had to stop himself from gagging as he saw the scars and cuts all the way up the arms, not to mention the unmistakable holes dotted around, with light bruising around each one, where a needle had been inserted multiple times.

Dean couldn't bear finding out if this was his little brother or not, but he couldn't stop himself. He walked around to the mans front to get a good look of his face. Dean froze.

The nose, the lips, the forehead, the chin, the eyes, all Sam's, but at the same time not Sam's. His eyes were hollow and dark circles surround both. His nose was red and sore, his lips were dry and chapped and his cheeks were hollow as well. Dean felt bile rising in his throat, but there was no denying it now. It was him.

"Sam"


	4. Chapter 4

"Sam"

The voice was soft and quiet, but Sam would still know it anywhere, Dean.

Dean had found him, after all this time.

Sam couldn't help but let the tears fall from his eyes as Dean knelt down next to him and cradles his head in his hands.

"Sammy, oh my god Sammy what happened to you?" Sam could hear the pain in Dean's voice as he was looking at Sam, searching him for any part of the guy he used to know, but Sam knew there was nothing left. He was just a hollow shell.

"D-" He tried to say Dean's name, but his body began retching and choking as he tried to speak for the first time in months. Dean understood, and as much as it pained Sam to have Dean see him like this, he couldn't change it. He couldn't stop his body from shaking, he couldn't help it when he threw up when Dean tried to move him, he couldn't help the fact he couldn't even say one word, he was helpless.

It wasn't really Sam's fault he was the way he was when Dean found him, he had been fine up until about 2 weeks prior to that meeting, that was until his supplier had cut him off because he couldn't make the payments anymore.

Sam hadn't known what to do, so tried finding other dealers and suppliers around, but to no avail. No one would give him what he needed with the money he had. Sam had stumbled across this 'den' just by chance one day. He'd been following people around, as usual, when he saw someone who looked in the same shape he was, holly eyes, cheeks, stick thin, looked like he'd been wearing the same clothes for about a month, yep exactly the same. Sam had followed him all the way back to his place before the guy had even noticed he was there. Sam may have been completely out of it, but he still knew how to stalk, like he used to stalk prey.

Sam had stayed in the den ever since. It had become a sort of home to him, it was, up until the moment Dean found him, the place he thought he would take his final breaths.

Things had gotten bad for Sam pretty fast after his supply was cut, first came the sweats, he'd go from boiling to freezing in a matter of seconds, and ended up getting a bad fever as a result of that. Then on top of that had come the vomiting, every time he tried to eat or drink anything, his stomach decided to empty it's entire contents, multiple times over. Next came the shakes, it was impossible for Sam to do anything once he started getting the shakes, they'd come in bursts in the beginning, but now stayed almost constantly. He couldn't even pick up his knife anymore. Lastly, and what hit Sam the hardest came the memory loss. He'd be fine some days, but others, he'd barely even remember his own name, let alone anything else about his situation, which would leave him scared and confused amongst people he didn't know.

Sam couldn't remember how long he'd actually been lying in that spot on the floor, but as Dean tried to lift him to his feet, he realized it must have been a very long time as his legs completely crumpled under his own weight. Dean managed to catch him just before he hit the floor, and tried again to lift him up, it was only then did Dean realize he probably could've just picked Sam up and carried him, he'd lost so much weight.

Slowly but surely they made their way towards the exit, Sam's shaking at started to subside a bit, but nothing could have prepared Dean for how Sam would look when they actually got into daylight.

It was worse than Dean had even though it could be, he noticed really how skinny Sam had gotten, and how hollowed out his cheeks and eyes were. He saw bruises covering Sam's skin, almost everywhere, some deep purple and black, some fading to a more blueish green. His hair, that he used to take such pride in, was dank and dingy and looked like it hadn't been touched in months. Dean couldn't help but catch his breath as he saw the true extent of the cuts that ran all the way up Sam's arms, with the little needle punctures dotted around the edges of them, he just couldn't believe this guy, this ghost, was really his Sammy.

* * *

Dean had continued to help Sam to the car, where he slowly placed him inside, allowing him to spread himself along the back seats before gingerly walking around to the drivers door.

He couldn't believe this was happening. He'd been searching for Sam for a year now, he'd expected him to be living it up with a wife or at least a girlfriend, not on the brink of death in a drugs den. Dean needed to find out, what had happened to make it get so bad for him.

He got in the car and noticed Sam was already snoring in the back seat, Dean wondered how long it had actually been since Sam had last had a peaceful sleep.

Probably not since the night you abandoned him.

Dean couldn't help but feel guilty after seeing Sam, he felt like the letter in his pocket was just about ready to burst into flames when he'd first caught sight of his little brother.

He drove carefully to the nearest motel, checking his rear view to look at Sam every few seconds, he just wanted to make sure he was safe now, that nothing bad was going to happen to his little brother now he was back with Dean.

They arrived at the motel, and Dean went in to go book a room before going back out to wake Sammy up. He shook him gently, but firm enough that Sam did wake up from his state of unconsciousness. It made Dean jump when Sam lashed out as soon as he opened him eyes with a look of pure terror in his eyes, but as he realized once again he was with Dean, it seemed to calm him down a bit.

Sam still hadn't said a word since Dean had found him, and now with them sitting on opposite beds in the motel room, Dean's imagination began to flip through every possible horrible event that could have happened to Sam when he heard a faint whimper coming from Sam's bed. It had snapped Dean back to reality as he went and sat over next to Sam on his bed.

"Dean." It sounded forced and painful hearing his name said out of Sam's mouth for the first time in a year, and Dean could tell it was painful for Sam to say as he scrunched his face up in pain after the word left his mouth. Dean rushed to grab Sam a glass of water before watching him down the whole thing, then proceeding to throw up the whole glass almost immediately all down himself.

That was when the tears started. Sam was bawling his eyes out, screaming and wailing just as he used to when he hurt himself as a child. Dean instinctively drew Sam up against him and began rocking him slowly as he started rubbing his hair. At first Sam froze at the random affection from someone, but slowly began to relax with Dean as it brought back all the good memories from their childhood together. Sam had missed this, he'd missed Dean.

Dean continued rocking his giant of a brother back and forth in his arms until he slowly began to calm down and soon enough he was asleep again in Dean's arms. The more Dean looked at Sam the sadder it made him, he was taking in each little detail of the Sam he saw before him. His eyes were caught on the scars on Sam's arms, he knew they weren't put there by someone else, the angle that they were, they'd come from Sam's own hand. Dean didn't even realize he was crying until he saw a tear fall onto Sam's arm. He quickly righted himself as he began to remove Sam from his arms to find that Sam was clinging onto Dean's jacket with his death grip, there was no way Dean was getting out of this one. He decided to try and settle down next to Sam rather than try and remove himself.

Once Dean had finally managed to lie down next to Sam, he managed to fall asleep listening to Sam's light breathing, knowing he was going to be safe from now on.

* * *

Sam woke up early in the morning, and jumped as he found himself in a bed rather than in a ball on the floor. He looked to his right and saw that he was in bed with Dean, he calmed down once he realised he wasn't in any immediate danger but couldn't help but feel slightly nauseated at the way Dean was with him again. This was the first time he'd seen Dean in about a year now, and the reason he'd left was because Dean was disgusted by what had happened to Sam in hell, and here he was, acting like his brother again.

Don't kid yourself Sam

He doesn't really care about you

He's probably more disgusted with you than ever.

Sam tried to calm his breathing as all these thoughts were rushing through his mind, but to no avail.

He slowly manoeuvred his way out of the bed away from Dean and swayed slightly after still not being used to standing of his own accord. Then with all the strength he could muster he walked as quietly as he could to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and swore under his breath as the lock made a loud clicking sound. He needed it, he needed to release.

Sam looked down to find his hands still trembling, this detox had been one of the hardest things he'd ever been put through, and that was saying a lot seeing as he'd literally been to hell and back. He reached down and grabbed the all too familiar blade from his ankle sheath, Dean had taken all of his other ones away from him whilst he was sleeping, but everyone always forgot about his handy ankle knife.

He placed the cold blade to his skin and slowly dragged it over already existing scars, there it was, that feeling that just couldn't be matched, the feeling of utter control over yourself, and at peace with yourself. The blood started flowing immediately, and as soon as Sam felt the warm blood trickling down his arm he let go of the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in one long sigh. Still very aware of the fact Dean was in such close proximity to him, Sam restricted himself to just three cuts on each arm. He knew he'd be able to cover them up as old cuts easily as he'd dotted them randomly up his arms. Although, of course to Sam they weren't just random cuts, he knew when he had done each one, and the reason behind it. He didn't like the fact he did it, but ever since that day he'd used it to keep a grasp of reality, it was Sam's new rock, now that he didn't have Dean any more.

Sam knew it wasn't the same though, these were slowly killing him, Dean wasn't. These were addictive and painful, Dean was just, there. These made him feel weak and excluded, Dean made him feel loved and warm. These made him feel cold and alone, Dean made him feel loved.

As all the memories Sam had cherished started to rush back into his head, he couldn't help but start crying. He'd missed Dean so much, maybe he'd just made a mistake by leaving all that time ago, Dean could never hate him could he, he was his brother.

Sam slowly sunk down against the bathroom wall, and sat silently sobbing at all the good memories he had of him and Dean together. All the pranks they used to play on each other, the way Dean had first taught Sam how to shave, how Dean had helped Sam understand puberty and girls, how Dean had always been more of a father to him than John ever was.

It was this, Sam realized, that he hadn't even known he'd missed, until now. And he didn't want things to go back to the way they were ever again.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean woke suddenly in his bed. He was alone. Sam wasn't there.

Dean had a momentary wave of panic wash over him before he heard a shuffle coming from inside the bathroom. Sam must be in there.

"Sammy? Are you okay in there?" Dean had been awake for half an hour now, but still Sam hadn't emerged from the bathroom, Dean had no idea when he'd actually gone in there, so had no idea how long Sam had actually been there.

When Sam didn't respond to Dean's call, Dean moved slowly over to the bathroom door where he crouched outside, and tried to talk to Sam again.

"Hey Sammy, you've been in there a while and I'm started to get worried now, how about you open up the door for me so we can talk about whatever's going on in that grapefruit of yours okay?" Dean was trying to use his voice that he had always used to coax Sam out of the shells he used to retreat into when he was younger and John was mad at him. It had always worked on Sam, until today. Dean was beginning to realize how much Sam had changed over this past year.

Dean began to slowly pick the lock, talking to Sam the whole time, explaining he was coming in, and that there was nothing to worry about. Slowly Dean managed to get the door open, and pushed it just wide enough so he could get in, but not all the way.

What he saw was a shocking sight, Sam had blood all up his arms from cuts that he'd either re-opened or made new, and was curled up in a corner of the bathroom, not crying, not sleeping, just staring. He didn't look in pain, he didn't look in shock, he was just staring.

Dean tried to approach him slowly, but as he got nearer to Sam, Sam simply curled up tighter in his little ball. Dean took a step backwards, as he soon realized he wasn't going to gain anything from pressuring Sam here.

"Sammy, hey man, listen to me, you're safe here okay, no one's going to hurt you, it's me, Dean, I'd never hurt you, come on little brother, let me help you" Dean crouched down against the wall the other side of the bathroom. Something really bad must have happened to Sam to make him get this bad, Dean's thoughts were interrupted when Sam starting making whimpering noises, that slowly began to sound my like words,

"D-Dean? What are you doing here, you left me."

It was then that Sam looked at Dean for the first time since Dean had entered the bathroom. His eyes were blood shot and glazed over, after obviously many hours of crying. Dean could't help but feel a little part of his heart breaking as he heard Sam say the words. He was right, Dean had left him when he needed him most, and Dean had blamed himself for it every passing hour since that day. Dean slowly made his way over to his little brother, and placed a hand on Sam's knee. Sam retreated further away from Dean than Dean thought possible, but Dean kept his hand there nonetheless.

"Sammy look at me, I know it was a mistake running out on you a year ago, I realized my mistake as soon as I made it to Bobby's, but by then it was too late, you were already gone. I've regretted that decision for every second since I came back and found that letter on the table. I've kept it with me since that day, to be there as a reminder of my biggest screw up. I never stopped looking for you Sam, I had people out looking everywhere, I tried everything to find you, I really did. I'm so sorry Sammy." I was looking away from Sam when I felt a familiar set of fingers and a hand lightly sit on top of my own, I looked up to find Sam staring into my eyes, they looked clearer than they had since I'd found him, and for that short moment, it felt like I had my little brother back again.

* * *

Sam looked up into Dean's eyes as he finished speaking, the words felt genuine, and maybe, just maybe, Dean had meant them. Maybe he hadn't meant to run out on Sam, maybe it was just a way of him trying to find out a way to help him.

"Dean, it's okay, I understand now." Sam also realized that for the first time in what felt like forever, he actually felt alive again, not just existing, but actually living. He didn't feel hopeless and useless when he was with Dean, he felt like he had a purpose, that his life actually meant something. It made Sam want to feel like he used to, alive and living. With adrenaline pumping through his veins when they went on a hunt, rather than some stupid drug he'd used to run away from that feeling. He wanted to feel the wind blowing through his hair when him and Dean were running for their lives whilst being chased by some crazy monster. He wanted to hear the sound of his own laugh again when him and Dean played pranks on each other to make the most of a bad situation. But most of all, he just wanted to be Sam again.

Sam slowly managed to stand up, with the aid of Deans arm at times, and walked out of the bathroom with his head held high. This was a new day, a day to start again, a day to make a change.

"Dean, I don't wanna be like this anymore man, I don't want to have to rely on a drug to get my highs, I want to be hunting with you." Sam couldn't help but notice the surprise on Dean's face when he said the words, he must have looked just as surprised as Dean suddenly burst out laughing. It was the first time in his life Sam had ever said he wanted to be hunting, and he really, really meant it, and even Sam couldn't help but try an unfamiliar smile at the sight of Dean's laughing fit. This was what he needed, not some stupid blade, or drugs, he needed Dean.

"Alright Sammy, if a hunts what you want, then a hunts what you'll get. But first we need to get to cleaned up man, you're a right mess, and we need to get a good meal in you, you're all skin and bones!" Sam knew Dean was trying to lighten up the situation by making a joke out of what Sam currently looked like, but Sam could see the hurt in his eyes, and that meant it hurt Sam too, so he knew he needed to sort himself out. "Right, so I need to know, when did you take your last fix?"

Sam had to think about that for a good while as time just seemed to float past when you were in a constant state of losing and regaining consciousness randomly. "Well..I'd say probably about two weeks ago, as the worst of the detoxing seems to have passed, and that's normally about when the shakes end right?" Sam really had no idea, he was simply being hopeful as he honestly didn't know how much more he could take in terms of detoxing the heroin from his system.

Dean nodded, but appeared to be in deep thought at the same time. Sam was clearly worrying him in more ways than one, Sam knew that look. It was his look for when he was utterly confused about a situation, but so desperately wanted to make it better so the problems would go away.

"Alright, well you go have a shower or something, I've got some spare clothes in my duffle, I would say they'd probably be too small, but actually they'll probably be too big. I'm just going to pop out and pig up some breakfast, don't worry nothing too greasy for you, we'll ease you back into the hunter's diet nice and slowly" Sam could tell Dean was still trying to make the situation humorous, and pathetic as his attempts were, it was actually starting to make him feel a little better. Dean left the room, and Sam started to get ready to have a shower. He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd had a proper shower, in a proper room, and the thought almost made him cry, pathetic as it sounds, it was quite emotional getting ready to be clean again.

Sam spent so long in the shower by the time he got out Dean was already back with the largest array of different breakfasts Sam had ever seen.

Dean had been right, the clothes that would normally have been too small for Sam, now hung off him, and it was just another thing that made Sam want to get his life back on track, back to being Sam.

* * *

Sam and Dean sat down to breakfast together, and tried to make conversation about what their lives had been like this past year. Of course, that didn't last very long as Dean's was simply him searching for Sam for a year, and Sam couldn't remember most of his, so instead they just sat in a comfortable silence, simply imagining for those few moments, that nothing had ever changed between them, and the past year just simply hadn't happened.

Neither of the boys touched on the subject of the day Sam left, and for now they both seemed quite comfortable forgetting it ever happened. But Dean just still couldn't bear to throw the letter away, not until he really had Sam back, and not this shell of a man who was sat before him. Dean knew that Sam appeared to want to change his ways right now, but he knew they weren't going to be in for an easy ride. When was anything ever easy for the Winchesters anyway?

So Dean kept the letter in his pocket, because he knew that the Sam who blamed himself for everything was still hiding inside this Sam's exterior, and Dean wasn't going to be satisfied until he convinced Sam it was just the way of life they lived, not his fault.

They stayed in that motel for a few days, eating three square meals a day, and already Dean started to notice a difference in Sam, his eyes and cheeks didn't look as hollow, and he didn't look quite as much like a ghost anymore, maybe just someone a little sick. When it finally came for the day they were to leave the motel things were just starting to look up for the brothers, as they got in the impala and drove away, in the hope of trying to sort out their lives, and for once it looked as though fate might just be on their side.

That was, until the flashbacks started happening again.


	6. Chapter 6

When they first started again, it was just at night. Sam could handle that, he'd wake up, and then just lie in bed waiting for Dean to wake up. It was fine, he was coping.

It had been a month now since Dean had found Sam, and still they hadn't really had a proper talk. Sam didn't want to talk about it, but he knew he'd have to, they always say a problem shared is a problem halved. So he decided that today would be the day, he glanced over at the clock in the scummy motel room and say it was 4am, perfect. Enough time for Sam to sort out what he was going to say before Dean woke up.

Sam started to hear Dean stir at around 8am. So, Sam did what he always did, lay back down and pretended to be asleep until Dean woke him up. It wasn't ideal, but it was something. So it happened like it always did, Dean got up, then walked over and shook Sam "awake", same old same old, but today Sam was going to make it different.

"Hey Dean? I need to talk to you about something, well not just something, The something." Dean spun back around as he'd been walking away from Sam's bed.

"Oh! Okay, well, do you wanna eat first, or are you ready now?" typical Dean, always worrying about food and Sam's eating. Even though it'd been a month, and Sam was slowly but surely returning to his normal size, he was less muscle now but he looked a lot more like a normal alive human being now rather than an ex junkie.

"Now, I feel like if I don't do it now, I may never say it. So you're probably wondering why I left in the first place. Well, in all honestly, I thought it was because you were disgusted with me because of what Lucifer did to me in hell. Now, I know, it sounds stupid but you wanted the whole truth so that's what I'm trying to do here okay." Sam took a few deep breaths before continuing, "I know it was stupid of me to run off without telling you, or just waiting for you to get back to actually talk it through. And I honestly didn't mean to go this long without speaking to you man, everything just got out of hand really. It was the day I left, that I took my first hit, and first used my knife to get Lucifer out of my head, it was a way of coping Dean. It was a tough time, and I was alone. I know it was down to me that I was alone, and I realized it was a mistake so soon after I left, but I just couldn't face you the way I was. I just thought you'd think of me as pathetic and disgusting, and I just couldn't bear to see that look on your face, the one you give to the things we hunt, because I know I wasn't any better than them. But I'm trying now Dean, I'm trying so hard to stay on track, I'm so grateful you found me when you did, I know if you hadn't I probably wouldn't have been around for much longer. You brought a hope back to me that I'd lost such a long time ago, and I know how much you hate these chick flick moments, but I just had to let you know how sorry I am for everything I put you through this last year, it never really occurred to me how much you actually cared, my judgement was so clouded, and I'm so sorry, for everything Dean." Sam's hands were shaking now as he looked away from Dean waiting to see his response.

"Sammy, man." Sam felt Dean's hand slowly hold his wrists and turn them over to look at his scars again, "I could never, ever be disgusted in you Sammy. You're my little brother, my whole world. I'd do anything or you man, I hate myself every day for letting that shit happen to you in hell. I wish every day it could have been me there and not you. I was the worst big brother at the time you needed me most, and I'll never forgive myself for letting you leave that motel room. I know you're changed now, and things will never be the same between us, but I swear I will spend every last waking minute of my god dammed life looking out for you Sammy. I don't do it simply because dad drilled it into me all those years ago, I do it because it's what I want to do that, it's all I've ever wanted to do was protect you Sammy, I know I failed you then, but I will never, never fail you again, and if you ever, and I mean ever, want to talk about this, it's completely cool, I'll let you be the exception to the chick flicks rule." Sam slowly looked back up into Dean's eyes, and he knew he was being completely serious, it was a rare thing to see Dean like this his green eyes full of remorse and regret, and Sam knew he couldn't have been more serious in that moment.

It was just another part of Dean, that Sam had missed so much more than he'd realized.

"Dean I-"

"Hey man it's cool alright, I know, me too."

Sam knew he should tell Dean about the return of Lucifer in his head, but he would get through it, him and Dean were finally okay, they didn't need this to think about again, it was just unnecessary and Sam didn't want to feel like a burden anymore.

* * *

Dean sat on the end of Sam's bed for about 10 minutes, just sat comfortably in each others company before Dean finally got up to sort out breakfast.

"Well then man, I'd say for this momentous occasion, we actually have something home cooked for breakfast, what do you say?"

"I say, do you even know how to use a kitchen!?"

"Oh Sammy, how little you know about your big brother, get ready, and I shall prepare a meal that will blow your taste buds away!"

Dean smiled and stood up to go fetch some supplies for his monster breakfast and he could swear, just as he was leaving the door, he actually heard Sam chuckle behind him. Oh there it was, that smile on his face, was't going anywhere any time soon.

Dean collected all the supplies he needed for breakfast, all the essentials, bacon, sausages, eggs, pancake mix, syrup, fruit, juice, and bread, everything for the ultimate breakfast. He arrived back at the motel room, and heard that Sam was in the shower so set to work on the breakfast.

When it was done, Dean couldn't help but admire his work, there was a stack of pancakes drizzled in syrup with fruit decoratively placed for Sam's sake, an awesome fry up consisting of bacon, sausages, eggs and toast, all cooked to absolute perfection Dean might add. Then he placed one glass of juice at either end of the table, with a jug of coffee in the middle and stood back just as Sam walked out the bathroom.

"Holy shit Dean that looks amazing!" Dean turned around and saw Sam smiling, a real smile, that actually reached his eyes, and found himself matching the smile subconsciously. If Sam was happy, he was happy. "I didn't even know you knew how to cook!"

"Ah Sammy, it's just one of my many talents" Dean went to go sit down at the table, shortly followed by Sam, where they ate the marvellous breakfast until both of them were completely full.

"Oh wow Dean, that was like seriously amazing man, you should cook more often!" When Sam noticed the look on Dean's face he chuckled again and said "I'm serious Dean! You should show off these skills more! I tell you, women dig a man that can cook!"

Dean laughed to himself as he got up to clear the plates away when he nearly dropped one of them as Sam started speaking again.

"Hey man, I did a bit of research while you were out, I hope you don't mind I kinda borrowed your laptop, but anyway, I found us a small job just outside of town, it sounds like a normal spirit doing a bit of haunting, normal salt and burn job, you know to ease back into things?"

"Are you sure you're ready for that man, it's only been a month, and you haven't really done much training yet?"

"Dean, if I don't start even trying to get back into it now, I'll never try, and I meant what I said, I do miss hunting, and I think we should give this a go."

"Well okay then Sammy, if you say you're good, then you're good. We'll leave in 20 alright?" Dean continued clearing things up again, he was happy Sam wanted to get back out there and start hunting again, but he couldn't help but have a bad feeling about it.

Dean was ready to go just as Sam finished gathering up all the weapons that were dotted around, he let Sam go out the room first and before he left he quickly salted the windows and around the door, just in case something bad happened and something ended up following them back, he didn't want anything else to go wrong for them.

Sam was right, the house where the spirit was meant to be was only about a 20 minute drive away, so Dean took it nice and slowly. They weren't in any hurry, and Dean was always more careful in towns as if they got picked up by the cops, they would have one hell of an explanation to do, so he drove at the speed limit, even with Sam's obvious sighs in the background.

* * *

They arrived at the house where the spirit was doing it's business, so far it had only hurt one woman, but luckily it wasn't serious, so most people would just brush it off as an accident, but anything that was stated as an accident in Sam and Dean's life rarely ever was, so they went and checked it out, and sure enough came out with a pretty high reading on the EMF meter. Sam went back outside to fetch the salt rounds for the shotguns, when he heard the door of the house slam behind him.

"Dean!" Sam ran back up the door and tried kicking it down but to no avail, it was like door was cemented shut.

"Sammy! hey hey don't worry alright, I'm fine, just get the stuff and try and get the door open. I think there's an axe in the trunk if all else fails. I'm just going to have a look around see if I can find out anymore more on who the spirit might be from something inside the house, seeing as it can't leave it must be latching onto something in here."

"Okay Dean, but be careful alright I'll be in there soon." With that Sam turned away to go back to the car, as Dean turned around and started walking further into the house.

Dean was wondering around inside when he stepped on a floorboard that made a very unnatural creak. Basement. Dean removed the rug that was on top of top of the floorboards, and sure enough, there was a little hatch that would probably lead to the basement, so he slowly lifted it up to be greeted by a smell that can only be described as death.

Sam was making his way back to the door axe in hand when he heard a yell come from inside the house.

"Dean!" Sam rushed to the door and started hammering the axe into it when he heard no response from his older brother. When he finally broke through enough of the door for him to fit through, he stood in the house all alone. There was no sight of Dean.

"DEAN!" Sam called out again, hoping that he might here something back, and he stood dead still trying not to make a sound when he thought he heard a faint sound coming from somewhere underneath him.

Sam walked around the room trying to find some sort of hatch of whole or something when he heard a very creaky floorboard underneath a rug. He removed the rug and saw that the hatch was unlocked but had fallen shut, Sam slowly lifted the hatch not really knowing what to find, but the smell hit him straight away, it was something rotting.

He slowly began to ease his way down the staircase, and slowly but surely began to hear noises coming from the far side of the room. He held his flash light out in front of him to create a narrow beam of light into the dark abyss of the basement. He slowly lowers the light, so the beam is sweeping around the edge of the basement floor when he sees Dean in a heap on the floor.

Sam drops the light at the sight of Dean and rushed over to help him,

"Dean! Are you okay?"

"Yeah Sammy I'm fine, just got a busted ankle, I don't think I can walk on it, so you'll have to finish off the spirit yourself then come get me alright, damn son of a bitch pushed me down the stairs!"

Sam nodded and walked back over to get to light, leaving it with Dean so he could see around the basement easier without being in the dark. He was slowly moving the beam of light around when it came to rest on a large sack that had a very dark tinge to the bag. As soon as Sam saw where Dean was pointing, he knew exactly what it was, blood.

Sam slowly walked over to it, he had to hold in a gag as he got closer as the smell was so repulsive. He inched closer and slowly opened up the sack, he instinctively threw his arm over his mouth as he started gagging into it, if the smell wasn't bad enough, then the sight of human remains, hacked up and shoved in a sack, was enough to make anyone feel sick. Sam quickly dig the bag back up and walked away from it, he made a mental note to salt and burn the remains before they left.

Sam continued to walk around the basement, searching for anything that didn't belong, or looked like an old heirloom of some sort, and came across an old necklace that was in a glass box and looked like it hadn't been touched in decades. He slowly opened the box and felt the all too familiar feeling of the temperature dropping around him.

"Sammy" Sam heard Dean's warning and knew he needed to get to work quickly, quickly coated the necklace in fuel and then salted it before lighting a match and throwing it onto the necklace just as the spirit appeared behind him. He spun around as he watched the ghost go up in flames with a ear piecing cry. As soon as it was gone, Sam rushed over to Dean to get him out of there, he helped him up the stairs before going back down into the basement and burning the remains. Then it was their time to leave, after quickly wiping his and Dean's prints down, he helped Dean into the car and drove them back to the motel.

It was on the drive back that he first started hearing Lucifer again,

Oh Sammy, how could you let your brother get hurt like that

You were supposed to be watching out for him Sam

He was right, you're not fit to be a hunter anymore

You're weak

You're useless

It's your fault Dean's in pain

You failed.

Sam tried to ignore it, but Lucifer kept talking in his head all the way back to the motel. They arrived and Sam helped Dean back into the room before laying him down on the bed and proceeded to patch up his ankle, it wasn't broken, just a bad sprain, but Sam couldn't help but feel guiltier and guiltier as he watched Dean wince in pain as he was bandaging it.

After he finished bandaging it, and giving Dean some pain medication for the pain, Dean slowly fell asleep. That was when Sam finally saw Lucifer when he was awake again. Sam ran away from Lucifer's form and retreated to the bathroom where he locked the door behind him, and then fell the to the floor with his back against the door.

He couldn't help feeling that what Lucifer was saying was right, he had failed Dean. He'd let him down, and now Dean was hurt. It was his fault Dean was in the pain he was in, and Sam had got out of it completely fine. That wasn't right.

Lucifer appeared before Sam in the bathroom, and Sam wanted nothing more than to get him out of his head again. He didn't want to let Dean down, he really didn't, but he couldn't cope with the continuous taunting him and continuously yelling in Sam's mind. It would drive him crazy.

He knew how to get Lucifer out, but he really didn't want to do it, it would be letting Dean down yet again, but Sam didn't have a choice. He had to do it.

He slowly reached down and felt the familiar handle of the blade next to his ankle and slowly raised it in front of him. The tears had started to fall now, because no matter how little Sam wanted to do this, he had to. He was helpless, and couldn't fight Lucifer off without the pain drawing him back to reality.

He took the knife and held it against his skin, the coldness of the blade making a few of his hairs stand on end before he slowly dragged the blade through the skin just above his elbow. He knew he should tell Dean, but he couldn't, so felt that here it would be easier to hide the cuts from Dean's wondering gaze. Sam felt the blood start to drip down his arm, as he made another cut, and then another. The feeling was familiar to Sam, and although he simply couldn't understand why, it made him feel better. Safer, now that he was alone once more.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam slowly made his way out of the bathroom after patching himself up. He didn't make bad cuts, that wasn't what was hurting him, it was the fact he'd gone behind Dean's back again, and lied to him, again.

He walked back into the room and saw Dean still sleeping peacefully on the bed, Sam suddenly felt sick and had to rush out of the room to get some fresh air or he was afraid he would have thrown up what he was now managing to keep down.

He made is way out of the motel and turned around the corner where he doubled over and leaned back against the wall. His breathing was heavy, and he was sweating, but he was already starting to feel slightly better the longer he stayed like that. After he'd finally calmed himself down, Sam returned to the motel room. He picked up some food from the local store before hand giving him a valid excuse as to why he left the room if Dean was up when he got back.

He returned to see that Dean was still in the room, but rather than being asleep as Sam expected him to be, he was sat with at the small table facing away from the door. Sam slowly closed the door behind him, wary of the way Dean was sat, and he had just begun walking over to the table when Dean spoke.

"Sam. How nice of you to come back, you know when you wake up and find your brother missing without any sign of where he went you think, oh maybe he juts popped out for a walk. Then after an hour or so you start to worry where he might be, so you try his phone, only he doesn't pick up. Then, after two hours, you think something bad might have happened to him, so you start to panic and try and look for clues to see if anyone had taken him, but when you find nothing you feel confused and helpless. But then after three hours, that thought pops back into your head, the thought you never wanted to think again, maybe your little brother's gone again, maybe he's run away and left you all alone for a second time in your life. Maybe he never actually wanted to be found, maybe he enjoyed living on the brink of death in a drug slum. Or maybe your brother's just a total dick who enjoys fucking you about and throwing your emotions right out the window." Dean slowly turned around as he finished the statement. He looked both confused and upset at the same time, Sam simply looked bewildered at the attack that had just come from Dean, he couldn't believe what Dean was saying.

"Dean...I..I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking I just needed sone fresh air is all, I didn't even realise how long I'd been gone." Sam was starting to have trouble with his breathing again and he knew he was going to have a panic attack if he didn't do anything about it, "I know I messed up but I..I..I"

"Woah Sammy, are you alright, hey hey breathe man it's okay, I overreacted is all. Calm down alright, I'm not that mad it's alright I get it, time just got away from you, calm down Sam"

Sam was trying desperately hard to try and calm his breathing but all of a sudden it felt like the walls were closing in on him and he couldn't do anything about it. He just kept on panicking in the hopeless effort to calm down. Then his cuts starting burning as he was overwhelmed by the guilt they were causing him, he knew he had to tell Dean but couldn't get any words out. Sam slowly started tugging up his sleeve as Dean gave him a confused look, but he knew he had to show him somehow.

* * *

Dean was still staring at Sam as he slowly moved over to him. He placed on hand on Sam's shoulder for reassurance but he could see that Sam was trying to show him something. He saw Sam tug up his sleeves and so helped him with one hand whilst keeping one hand firmly planted on Sam's shoulder.

Dean took a sharp intake of breat has he finally saw what Sam was showing him, there were fresh cuts on his arms. Dean knew Sam hadn't touched his arms with a blade since after Dean found him. Why had he done it now?

"Sammy? Hey it's okay, I'm not mad okay, calm down alright we can talk about this." Dean was trying his best to calm Sam down, but nothing he was trying seemed to be working. "Sam, I need you to listen to me okay, just listen to the sound of my voice. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, not anymore, I'm here, and you know I would never hurt you. I'm not mad Sammy, I'm not. I just need to you try and calm down so we can talk about this."

Dean slowly walked Sam over to the bed for him to sit down on to try and make it easier to comfort him. Dean sat down behind him and cradled Sam in his arms whilst rocking him back and forth just as he had done a year ago. It broke Dean's heart to know that nothing had changed since then, he still couldn't help Sam defeat his demons, and still had no real idea what was going on in his younger brothers head.

Once they'd finally settled on the bed, Dean could feel Sam slowly start to relax slightly at the feeling of the familiar setting. Dean was comforted as Sam slowly slowed his breathing and began to relax into Dean more.

Suddenly Sam starts sniffling in Dean's arms, it was only when Dean move away from Sam's body slightly did he see he was crying. He was trying to talk, to tell Dean something, but it just wasn't coming.

"Hey Sammy, don't worry about it, if you don't want to talk about it now it's okay, it's fine we can talk about it another time it's okay Sam"

"No...Dean." Sam was choking on some of his words but Dean could tell he was going to tell him something whether Dean tried to stop him or not, "I-I didn't mean to upset you, I just had to get a-away. He was in my head again, he was back." Sam didn't need to say a name, Dean knew exactly who he meant. Lucifer. "He wouldn't go away, he just wouldn't shut up, I didn't know what to do. I know I'd used pain before to get rid of him before. I-I didn't want to do it Dean but I had to. I couldn't stand it any longer, you don't understand what it's like Dean, having him in your head non-stop. He never shuts up."

Dean knew he should be shocked, but honestly he wasn't. He knew something like this was bound to happen when Sam stopped taking what he used before. He held Sam close as he continued to cry, and yet again Dean was completely helpless as of how to help Sam.

* * *

Sam knew Dean was trying to understand, he really did, but Sam knew Dean could never truly understand what Sam was going through. He didn't understand that every time Sam tried to sleep, Lucifer was there. He didn't understand that every time Sam was awake, Lucifer was there. He didn't understand that every time Sam tried to think, Lucifer was there. He just didn't understand. Having the devil in your head 24 hours a day is enough to make anyone crazy, and slowly but surely Sam was realizing he was well on his way.

He sat on his bed looking over at Dean. He must have fallen asleep after his panic attack last night, and Dean, being the good brother than he is, probably stayed awake until he was sure Sam was asleep. Although, of course, Sam didn't feel at all rested when he had woken up, it was the same as it always was, Lucifer screaming at him all night, tormenting him, and trying to convince him he was living in his own personal hell. Of course, by now Sam didn't need convincing. He knew where he was was real, but he also knew it was his own hell. Having the devil trapped inside your head, can create a living hell out of pretty much any life, and one Sam never wanted to lead in the first place was no problem to do that do. Sam only enjoyed hunts now because they gave him a sense of clarity, a moment away from Lucifer. Sam knew he wouldn't want to watch as him and Dean slaughtered his children, so he hunted, he killed the demons, and he had peace. That was, until Lucifer came back and gave him an earful for killing his children. It was an endless cycle of hell, and Sam just wanted out.

It was always there, Lucifer never failed to remind Sam that there was just one quick and easy way out of it all. In the beginning, Sam was adamant he would always say no, he could never just give up like that, it wasn't the Winchester way. But now, now he just wasn't sure he even knew what the Winchester way was anymore. He'd gone so far off the reservation so many times now, there was barely anything left of the real Sam Winchester.

Sam hated seeing himself like this, he hated even thinking of himself like this, but there was just nothing he could do anymore. Lucifer had won, he'd finally broken Sam Winchester.

That wasn't the worst part though, it was the fact that Sam knew he was broken now, and simply saw himself as a broken piece of the puzzle that had been his life.

He knew Dean could see it too, how messed up and broken Sam was. He was a mere shell of the man he'd once been, the man he would have hoped to become. Sam knew he'd let Dean down, hell his brother had practically raised him. He'd always taught him to never give up without a fight, and Sam had stuck to that, and he knew he would stick to that until his dying breath. But he just couldn't go on anymore. He'd fought, god had he fought. He'd tried everything he could think of to win this fight, but how do you beat something that's inside you without destroying it.

So it was then that Sam decided. He got up and with a shaky hand he started writing.

Dean,

I know we've gone through this before, but there's a difference this time. I'm not running away because I think you don't care about me, I'm leaving because I don't have any other choice. I've tried so hard Dean, I really have. But, I just can't take it anymore, my head just feels like it's on fire all the time, and it breaks my heart for you to have to see my like this. I can't let you keep having to try to save me, when I can't even save myself.

You've been the best big brother I could ever have asked for. You were more of a dad to me than dad ever was, and more than that, you've always been my best friend. The one person I could always turn to, no matter how tough the times got. You were always there for me Dean, always.

I know I'll never be able to repay you for all the good that you've brought to my life, and all I can say is I'm sorry we won't get the chance to grow old together. Because that's all I ever really wanted Dean, I wanted to be with you, have my big brother at my side until the day I died.

I'm sorry for quitting, I really am , but when there's nothing left to do, when there's no way you can possibly win a battle, you always taught me to accept defeat graciously, so that's what I'm doing. I admit, Lucifer was one hell of an opponent, but in the end he always wins.

More than anything Dean, I'll miss you. I'll miss the silly jokes you make when the situation gets too tough. I'll miss the silly smiles you have when you're trying to charm a girl into bed with you. I'll miss the groggy expression you have when I have to wake you up after your too little hours of sleep. I'll miss the way you love the Impala so much. I'll miss your eyes, and the way they always lit up when I walked in the room. I'll miss you looking after me when I was ill. I'll miss the way you used to sneak me out to places dad would never take me. I'll miss the way you calm me down, in a way only you know how. I'll miss you.

So this is it, the end of the Winchester Brothers, the Dynamic Duo, the Dream team. I'm sorry for letting you down Dean, but this is the only way I can bear to go before I go completely insane. I know the best memories you'll have of me were before all this happened, before hell, before Ruby, before dad. Hell, I don't even remember who I was back then, but you do, and I know that's the guy you always wanted me to be, so maybe that's the Sam you'll remember. The real Sam

So to end this letter, there's just one more thing to say,

I love you Dean and always will.

Goodbye,

Jerk.

Sam couldn't stop the tears from falling as he finished the letter. He placed it on the table and wrote Dean's name on the front, then quickly left the motel room with just his gun. It's all he'd need now.

Sam went outside behind the motel and sunk down onto his knees in the ground. He slowly raised the gun to his head with shaky hands and closed his eyes.

He took one last breath before placing the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

Then he pulled the trigger and everything went black.

* * *

It was a Tuesday afternoon when Dean found Sam's body.


	8. Chapter 8

It's been two weeks. Two weeks since Dean woke up and found the note. Two weeks since he'd rushed out of the motel to find a group of people hustled around a body. Two week since he'd seen Sam lying on the group with a whole in his head. Two weeks since his whole world ended.

Dean had tried everything to bring Sam back, he knew he shouldn't have, but still he tried. Demon deals, hoodoo, spells, witches , angels, every single thing he could think of. But nothing worked, Sam was still gone, and Dean was still alone.

Dean had done the proper burial, salt and burned Sam's bones, he couldn't bear to face the fact he was alone in this world, so every day he did what any typical Winchester would do, he went out drank himself into oblivion and slept with as many women as possible. Dean hated himself for doing it, he knew Sam would never approve, but that just reminded him that Sam wasn't there anymore, so he went out and drank and got laid again. It was an endless cycle which Dean had got himself into.

Dean couldn't face going back to the bunker without Sam, so it remained empty. Dean felt hollow inside, so he filled it with drink. He'd drive around until he found something to kill, and then drink himself to sleep at night. He hated hunting without Sam, hating driving around in the impala without Sam, yet he couldn't face trying to do anything else. He hadn't spoken to Bobby at all, he'd just gone into this bubble only Dean was allowed in. He'd stay there and go through all the nice memories he had with Sam, it was like his own little heaven running through his mind. But then, he'd remember that he'd never be able to make any knew memories with Sam, so he turned to the drink again.

This went on for months. The hunting, the drinking, the sex, the drinking, the hunting, the drinking, the guilt.

It was the guilt that was eating Dean up from the inside, why couldn't he have saved Sam, why couldn't it have been him that had gone to hell in the first place instead of Sam. Why did he have to break the first of the 66 seals. If he hadn't done that, then Sam wouldn't have broken the last one and freed Lucifer, and then felt such a responsibility to get him back in his cage. If only Dean hadn't been so weak. Why did he get off that rack, why didn't he stay. Sam was in hell for so much longer, getting it so much worse, yet he still wouldn't have ever tortured a soul to get free of it.

Every night Dean prayed to Sam, apologising to him, wishing he could see him again, wishing Sam could still be happy and alive like he used to be, wishing Jess was still with him. Wishing he'd never gone and found him in Stanford that night.

Dean knew deep down that Sam would never hear these prayers, he knew that Sam wasn't all cosy up in heaven, suicides didn't go to heaven. No, his little brother, who just wanted to get away from everything will be somewhere deep down below, locked in his own personal hell.

* * *

The guilt was eating Dean up from the inside. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, he couldn't even hunt anymore. So there he was, sat in the impala with a bottle of whisky in his hand talking away to his brother that should be sitting in the seat next to him but never would be again.

The tears were falling freely off Dean's face as yet another wave of guilt washed over him. He knew he should at least try and hide it, but he just couldn't anymore. He was broken.

Dean Winchester was finally broken.

Then Dean started talking. He knew he wouldn't stop once he'd started, that's why he hadn't spoken in weeks. But now, now was the time for talking. He just knew it.

"Sammy. I know you can't hear me, but you will be able to soon enough I promise. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such a shit big brother. I should have taken better care of you, I know you always told me that you were old enough to take care of yourself, and I pretended to listen but I never stopped looking out for you Sammy, I just observed from the background. Making sure, whenever I could that you wouldn't get hurt on hunts, and that you wouldn't ever be in any real danger. But then I had to fail didn't I, I had to go and get you lost, and killed. Of course I sold my soul to save you Sammy, I couldn't live and let you die. I'm sorry for screwing things up even when I wasn't on earth. If I hadn't been such a weak person I would have never have started all this shit, which you have to clean up. I was meant to look after you, you shouldn't have had to clean up my messes for me. I should have never let you jump in that cage, I knew it then, and I know it now, I can't believe I let you do that, and I'm so sorry Sammy. I'm sorry for everything that happened to you in that cage, I'm sorry for the memories you had to bear, and I'm sorry for not being there for you to share them with. I never forgave myself for walking out that door that day, I should have stayed with you. I'm sorry. But don't worry Sammy, you won't be alone for much longer, because I'm coming. I'm coming to be with you, and I swear, I will never leave you ever again." Dean slowly raised his gun to his chin and looked up at the ceiling of the impala, as he clicked the safety off and cocked the gun, "I'm coming Sammy, don't you worry about anything any more." And he pulled the trigger.

Dean had always said he'd wanted to die with a gun in his hand.


End file.
